


Panic

by yet_i_remain_quiet



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Felicity has panic attacks, Oliver calms her down, Pre Season 3, pre olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:33:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_i_remain_quiet/pseuds/yet_i_remain_quiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity has been having panic attacks since she was a child. One night she has one while in the foundry, Oliver helps to calm her down</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @jarvisismyco-pilott: Hey so Olicity Prompt if you are up for it! So I don't know about you but the way Felicity was mumbling and stressing out over the moving boxes and the stressed out thing she was doing with that pen made me think an OCD/ Panic Attack / Breakdown was going to happen and I know this isn't fluffy but the idea for a drabble about that is stuck in my mind. Or alternatively she could have a breakdown at work and Digg or Sarah or Curtis has to call Oliver to help her out of it? Anyway just an idea!
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like it :)

The panic attacks started after Felicity’s father abandoned her. She would wake up in the middle of the night, unable to breathe, her heart beating wildly in her chest, with tears pouring down her cheeks, as her whole body trembled. Her mother did the best she could to try and comfort her, to calm her down. She would sit with her and hold her until the panic passed.   
  
As time went on, they became more frequent. Happening if her mom was late coming home from work or when she was getting ready for school in the morning. So after a few weeks of sleepless nights, Donna brought Felicity to see the doctor. First, they tried different coping strategies, breathing techniques, counting to 100. Nothing seemed to help. Eventually, the doctor prescribed Felicity a medication that would help.   
  
And it did. Felicity’s panic attacks didn’t completely disappear. But as time went on, more and more time between them.   
  
They came back in full force while Felicity was attending MIT, after Cooper was arrested and killed himself in prison. Her roommate found her one night, curled up in a ball on the floor. When she was unable to calm Felicity down, she had called 911 and the paramedics had arrived. After seeing a doctor Felicity was prescribed another medication, which seemed to help.   
  
When Felicity moved to Starling, she tried to convince herself that her anxiety and panic attacks were a thing of the past. Here, she could be a new person. She told herself that she was just a boring IT girl, that there was no reason for her to panic. Which worked, until Oliver Queen walked into her office.   
  
The first time she met him, he came armed with a laptop, riddled with bullet holes. He had spun a tale of how he had spilt a latte on it while at a cafe that was in a bad neighbourhood. She knew it was a lie, but chose not to press the matter. She was surprised when he kept coming back to her, each time, his lies and excuses only got more ridiculous and unbelievable. There was the energy drink in the syringe, the black arrow for his “friend”. But she didn’t question him.  
  
It really wasn’t much of surprise when she climbed into her car one night and found him, dressed as the vigilante, bleeding on her backseat.   
  
She had managed to keep it together as she drove him to his father’s old factory, despite her protests that he needed a doctor. She had helped Diggle, his bodyguard, stitch him back up. She fought through the rising panic that built in her stomach. Pushing it down until she got home.   
  
But, the second the door closed behind her, it started.   
  
Her breathing came out in short, quick pants, her heartbeat raced and pounded in her ears. Her hands shook and her body felt too hot. Her eyes were unfocused as she stumbled through her house, until she all but collapsed on her couch. She tore at her clothing, trying to get the blood stained clothes off her body. She put her head between her knees and tried all her old strategies. She took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. She counted by twos, down from 100. And after repeating the strategies a few times, she could feel them working. She could feel her pulse, slowing to its normal, steady pace; her breath evening out, her muscles loosening, and the feeling of terror slowly leaving her stomach.   
  
As Felicity became more involved with Team Arrow, it became clear that feeling fear and panic, was normal. The adrenaline helped. And her panic attacks occurred less often. Only reoccurring after particularly rough cases. Each time Felicity could feel on coming, she fought to ignore them until she was home, alone. Not wanting the rest of the team to see her in such a vulnerable state. There were a few times that she couldn’t hold them off, and she would escape to the washroom, hiding out until the moment had passed.   
  
It was easier she found, when she compartmentalized. She organized her thoughts and fears into boxes in her mind, pushing the bad ones away. Stored away where they couldn’t reach her.   
  
Her plan worked, until one night, when it didn’t.   
  
It was late, on a Tuesday night, Oliver and Diggle were out patrolling, leaving Felicity with Roy while he was training. Three weeks had passed since the team had defeated Slade Wilson and left him in a cell on Lian Yu.   
  
Felicity had tried to convince herself that she was over it. That she was over Oliver leaving her in the Queen Mansion, with the cure clenched in her hand, as bait. But her reoccurring nightmares, told her otherwise.   
  
Nightmares of waiting in the empty house, hearing it creek and groan in the dark, as she waited. The slamming doors and sound of thumping feet as the soldiers came. The fear and terror, as they attacked and entered the room from all sides, giving her no way to escape. The darkness, as they threw a bag over her head and all but dragged her out to the van. The cold steel of the blade that Slade held to her throat. Her nights were filled with those memories, those nightmares.   
  
It was a quiet night in Starling, as most nights had been since catching Slade. Felicity was sitting at her computer, guiding Oliver and Diggle towards the criminal. But she was tired. More tired than normal. She had woken up multiple times throughout the night. Waking from nightmares of the night in the mansion, nightmares of Oliver not getting to her in time, of Oliver choosing Laurel.   
  
She found herself drifting off as she heard Oliver announce that he and Diggle had caught the criminal and they were waiting for Lance to arrive, before they would return to the foundry for the night. She slowly stood up, getting ready to gather her things, when a loud crash rang through the lair.   
  
Felicity fell to the floor, startled. She dove under the safety of her desk. Her heart beat rang in her ears and her breath came out in fast pants. She closed her eyes tightly, as she tried to ignore the images of Slade’s men attacking that came into her mind. She covered her ears with her hands as a loud buzzing sound rang through her head. She thought she could hear someone screaming.   
  
She tried in vain to calm herself down. She tried to use her old methods, tried to slow her breathing, but nothing seemed to work.   
  
“Felicity!”   
  
She heard her name being called but it sounded mumbled and far away.   
  
“Felicity!”  
  
It came again, only this time it sounded clearer, breaking through the buzzing in her head. There was something familiar about the voice.   
  
“Felicity, open your eyes,” the voice called again. This time it came with hands, gently grasping her wrists, carefully prying them away from her ears. The hands were familiar, she recognized their roughness, the calluses and strength.   
  
Oliver.   
  
“Felicity, come on sweetie, take a deep breath,” Oliver said gently.   
  
She slowly pried her eyes open. Oliver was crouched in front of her. He still wore his mask over his eyes, but his hood was pushed back. His eyes were filled with concern and worry as he watched her.   
  
“There you go,” he coached. “Breathe with me. Deep breath in and let it out.” He moved one of her hands to rest on his chest. She could feel it moving with each breath he took, she could feel the steady beats of his heart. She tried to slow her breaths to match his.   
  
After a few minutes, she could feel her breathing and heart rate slowing to their regular speed. She watched as relief passed over Oliver’s feature and he gently pulled her into his arms, running a hand through her hair.   
  
Felicity looked over his shoulder. She could see Diggle sitting on one of the chairs, his eyes wide and filled with worry. Roy was standing by the training mats, his body tense and his eyes seemed to be filled with tears as he watched the scene in front of him.   
  
“What…” Felicity’s voice croaked out, she cleared her throat and tried to speak again. “What happened?”  
  
Roy stepped forward. “It was my fault. I knocked a stand of arrows over,” he explained. “And you.. you went under the desk and you were shaking and screaming and I couldn’t get you to calm down. I didn’t know what to do. How to help you. So, I called Oliver, he was still waiting for Lance. But he came and you were still screaming and crying. And he… he helped you.”  
  
Felicity pulled back from Oliver’s embrace. She brushed the tears off that still clung to her cheeks. She avoided Oliver’s questioning gaze as she shakily tried to stand. She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She tried to reach for her bag, but Oliver’s hand on her arm stopped her.   
  
“Felicity,” he whispered. “What happened? I’ve never seen you like that. You were shaking and not breathing properly, screaming. I was calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear me.”  
  
Felicity shook her head, not wanting to answer. “I’m just… Can I just go home? I’m tired.”  
  
Oliver furrowed his brow as he looked at her, his face filled with concern. He looked like he wanted to ask more questions.   
  
“Please,” Felicity begged. “I just want to go home.”  
  
Oliver sighed but nodded. “At least let me drive you home,” he pleaded.   
  
Felicity closed her eyes, all she wanted right now was to be curled up in her bed. Alone. But she knew that Oliver wouldn’t back down. She nodded tiredly. “Okay,” she agreed quietly.   
  
Oliver smiled, he let go off her arm, saying he was going to change and then they could go. He moved quickly, going to the washroom to change out of his suit. He returned to her side a few minutes later, wearing jeans and his grey hoodie.  
  
“Let’s get you home,” he said softly. He put his hand on her lower back, guiding her out of the foundry. She muttered a quiet goodnight to Diggle and Roy as she and Oliver walked passed them.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Roy called to her, his voice filled with remorse.   
  
“It’s okay, Roy,” she tried to smile at him. “I’m fine.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The drive to Felicity’s condo was silent, but Felicity could see Oliver’s body was filled with tension. He pulled to a stop outside her house and waited, not speaking.   
  
“I have panic attacks,” Felicity blurted, unable to sit in the silence anymore.   
  
Oliver turned to look at her.   
  
“They started after my dad left,” Felicity continued. “At first, it was just at night. I would have nightmares of my dad leaving and I’d wake up, unable to breathe. But they got worse, and happened more often. It got to the point where my mom could barely leave me alone without me freaking out.  
  
“We tried everything, therapists, breathing exercises, mediation, nothing worked. Finally the doctor prescribed me an anti-anxiety medication and it helped. I could sleep through the night again, go to school, my mom could go to work without worrying.   
  
“I still take them sometimes. When everything is too much. And I haven’t had any attacks in a while,” Felicity babbled.   
  
Oliver reached over and took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned.   
  
Felicity chewed her lip nervously, unsure how to answer.   
  
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “ I thought I was in control of them. They weren’t happening very often and the times that I had them, I was usually able to hold them off until I was alone. At home or…”  
  
“The bathroom,” Oliver filled in, a look of realization crossed his face. “But I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me, or Digg. We could have helped you.”  
  
“I just,” Felicity struggled to find the right words to explain. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. You have enough to worry about. With Thea and trying to get your family’s company back and saving the city. The last thing you needed to worry about was my issues.”  
  
“Felicity,” Oliver tried to interrupt.  
  
“And I was fine, for a long time,” Felicity continued over top of him. “I wasn’t really having the attacks anymore. But then… Everything happened with Slade. And the house. They’ve been happening again. And I can handle it. But I haven’t been sleeping. And sometimes, it’s like my brain thinks I’m still there. That I’m in the mansion. Alone. Waiting.”  
  
“So tonight, when Roy knocked the arrows over,” Oliver cut in. “You thought that it was Slade’s men, coming to take you.”  
  
“Yes,” Felicity answered. “No. Logically, I know that I wasn’t being attacked. I know that. But sometimes my brain forgets. And I didn’t want you to see that. I never wanted you to see me like that.”  
  
“Felicity,” Oliver cut her off, gently squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I put you through that. I never meant…”  
  
“No,” Felicity said forcefully. “No. I didn’t tell you what happened to make you feel guilty. I was bait for Slade because it was our only option. The only way to catch him. And I would do it again. If we had go back and do it all again, I would still let myself be taken by his men to catch him.”  
  
“But. I…”   
  
“No, Oliver,” Felicity cut him off again, pulling her hand out of his grasp. “No guilt Oliver. I have been dealing with this since I was little. I handled it then and I will handle it now.”  
  
Oliver sat in silence. After a few seconds he looked over at Felicity.   
  
“Not alone,” he said to her.   
  
“What?” Felicity asked confused.  
  
“You don’t have to handle it alone,” Oliver repeated. “I told you once that if you ever needed to tell someone about your day, you could tell me. That still applies. Next time you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack. Call me. I will come. I don’t care if it’s 3 in the morning. I will be there.”  
  
Felicity stared at Oliver, not sure how to respond.   
  
“I promise, Felicity,” Oliver swore, looking at her seriously, his blue eyes focused on her. “Anywhere, anytime.”  
  
“Okay,” Felicity whispered, unable to look away.   
  
They stared at each other for a few more minutes, until Felicity’s phone buzzed, breaking the silence.   
  
Felicity cleared her throat awkwardly. She dug through her bag to find her phone. She pulled it out, checking the message.   
  
“It’s Digg,” she told Oliver. “He’s just making sure I got home okay. And wants to know if we want to get breakfast tomorrow.”  
  
“You should tell him,” Oliver suggested. “He won’t treat you any different. Roy too. He felt terrible. I’ve never heard him so scared when he called me tonight.”  
  
“I will,” Felicity promised as she reached for the door handle. “I’ll tell them.”  
  
“Good,” Oliver replied. “Goodnight Felicity.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Felicity echoed as she climbed out of the car and walked towards her house.   
  
Once she reached her front door, she looked back to see Oliver watching her, a small smile on his face, he raised a hand, waving at her. She waved back, before turning back and going inside.   
  


* * *

  
  
A few nights later, Felicity shot up in her bed, her heart racing and unable to catch her breath. She sat in silence for a few seconds, before reaching for her phone. She dialled the familiar numbers and waited for the voice on the other end.   
  
“Oliver.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity wakes up in the middle of the night, having a panic attack and calls Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have asked that I continue with this story, and I'm granting those wishes :P Here's the second part, there may be a third or fourth.

Felicity and Oliver continued the pattern as time went by. As the next few months progressed, Felicity had less and less panic attacks. Ad the times she did, Oliver was the first person she called. They were spending more time together as well. Outside of their vigilante actives, Felicity had been helping Oliver as he prepared to fight to regain control over his family’s company.   
  
Though her panic attacks weren’t occurring as often, the nightmares were still there. Felicity would find herself waking in the middle of the night, her heart pounding in her chest, with images of Slade and the night in the mansion flashing through her head. On these nights, she would reach over to pick up her phone, dialling Oliver’s number. His calm voice on the other end was usually enough to remind her that the nightmares, though based in reality, were just dreams. She was safe. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her. And he’d talk, reassure her, until she fell back to sleep.   
  
Some nights however, Oliver’s voice wasn’t enough. And on those nights, when Felicity woke up, shaking and unable to catch her breath, she’d call Oliver but be unable to speak on the phone. Those were the nights that within minutes of her calling him, she would hear him, using the key she given him, coming in through the front door. She’d hear his footsteps as he raced up the stairs, his voice calling her name, breaking through the panicked fog that clouded her mind. She’d feel his hands, rough and calloused, gently holding her cheeks, his thumbs carefully wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes. He’d pull her into his arms, until her breathing had slowed to match his. Until the panic passed.   
  
After each episode, Oliver would encourage Felicity to talk about it. Asking her what had caused it, what the nightmare was about. In the beginning, she hadn’t liked to talk about it. Talking about it meant reliving it and with that, all the feelings of fear and terror along with it.   
  
Oliver explained to her that talking might help. Though she wondered how he knew that, he still refused to talk about his nightmares and the years he spent away. But as time went on, she realized that he was right. Talking about the nightmares made it easier to separate the jumbled mess in her head. It made it easier to separate which parts had really happened and which were the parts that her mind had created out of fear.   
  
As the months passed, Felicity began to notice more changes in her relationship with Oliver. The nights that Oliver would race to her side, he would often stay, holding her until she fell back to sleep. Most mornings, she’d wake up to find him making coffee in her kitchen or using her shower after returning from a run. He would order take out, on the nights that they spent pouring over spreadsheets, preparing for his meeting with the board. She noticed his hands lingering on her back as they walked or a hand on her shoulder and she worked in the foundry, he always seemed to touching her. More than once she had looked up from her computer to see him watching her, a teasing smile on his face when she caught him.  
  
She didn’t mind, in fact, she enjoyed the attention. She remembered Oliver’s words to her, the night in the mansion. She could still hear his voice, telling her that Slade took the wrong woman, that he loved her. She found herself, more times that she would like to admit, wondering if his words were true, if he had meant them.   
  
Then one day, Oliver had caught up to Felicity as she entered the foundry after work. He had seemed nervous, something she wasn’t used to seeing on Oliver. She had thought that his nerves were due to his upcoming meeting with the board. She had been caught completely off guard when he asked her to dinner. As a date. But had immediately agreed.   
  
The date had been perfect. Until the world had exploded around them.  
  
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Oliver started to pull away. His guilt for her safety caused him to break things off with her before they even had a chance to get started. And though she wasn’t surprised, she couldn’t stop the hurt and disappointed feeling that hung over her.   
  
And then, Sara died.   
  
Strong, beautiful, warrior Sara. Was shot with arrows and fell off a rooftop.   
  
Felicity had fought with Oliver. Coming to the realization that she couldn’t and wouldn’t wait for him. She couldn’t wait for him to die. She needed more.  
  
That’s when the panic attacks came back.   
  
It happened one night, a few nights after Sara’s death. The same night that they buried Sara. Felicity had left the foundry late and had all but collapsed on her bed. Completely spent and emotionally exhausted from the events of the past few days. She hadn’t even had the energy to change out of her clothes before she had fallen asleep.   
  
She shot up in her bed a few hours later. Her heart pounding in her chest, echoing in her ears. Her breath came out in ragged pants. Her clothing felt too heavy and hot, she scrambled, pulling at her dress, trying to get the material off her overheated body. Tears were pouring down her cheeks.   
  
On pure instinct, she reached for her phone, dialling Oliver’s number. She held it to her ear, listening to the ringing on the other end. Only then did her mind catch up with her actions. She and Oliver had barely been speaking the last few days. Would he even answer her call? Her thumb hovered over the end call button, as she debated calling Diggle or even Roy instead. Just as she was about to hang up, she heard his voice on the other end.  
  
“Felicity?” his voice as steady and reassuring as ever.   
  
Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart was still racing in her chest. She tried to open her mouth to speak but all she could get out was a strangled gasp.   
  
“Felicity?!” Oliver’s voice rang through the speaker, raised in alarm. “I’m on my way.”  
  
Still unable to speak, she shook her head furiously, even though she knew that Oliver couldn’t see her. Her worry in Oliver coming to help her, only seemed to make her panic worse.   
  
She felt light headed as her breath came out in sharp, fast pants. Tears rained down her cheeks and a nauseous feeling settled in her stomach. Her entire body was trembling.   
  
“Felicity?” Oliver’s voice rang through her condo. She tried to slow her breathing as she heard Oliver’s footsteps on the stairs. He burst through her bedroom door a few seconds later, a look of panic on his face. His eyes scanned her body before they focused on her face. He took a few hesitant steps towards her, his hands raised as he reached for her.   
  
But once she was within arm’s reach, she found herself jumping back away from Oliver’s reach. A look of hurt and sadness passed over his face. He lowered his hands and stopped his movements towards her.   
  
“Felicity,” he called to her. “Felicity, I need you to breathe.”  
  
Felicity tried to focus on his voice but her mind jumped around in its panicked state, making it impossible to focus on one thing. Images of her nightmare flashed in her head.   
  
“Felicity,” Oliver took a slow, hesitant step towards her, unsure of how she would react.   
  
When she didn’t move, he took another step and another. He continued slowly, until he reached Felicity. Cautiously, he reached out to her, he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her cheek. As he gently brushed her tears away, she found herself leaning into his hand.   
  
“Felicity,” he whispered. “You’re safe. I’m here.”  
  
At those words, Felicity scrambled towards Oliver. She placed her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She felt him wrap his arm around her, holding her close. He muttered softly to her, telling her to breathe, deeply in, to hold the breath, and slowly let it out. She felt his chest moving with steady breaths and she tried to focus on that, she tried to match his breathing.   
  
After several minutes, she felt her breathing slow to its normal speed. She felt her heart rate return to its normal pace. Her body stopped shaking. But she remained in Oliver’s arms. Unable to remove herself from the comfort and safety of his strong arms. She could feel herself relaxing in his warm embrace. Her eyes fluttered shut as her mind began to drift off.   
  
“Sleep, Felicity,” she heard Oliver whisper, though it sounded far away in her sleepy mind. “I’ll keep you safe.”  
  
And she drifted off to sleep.   
  


* * *

  
  
Felicity woke in the morning to the smell of coffee, wafting from her kitchen up to her bedroom. She slowly pulled herself out of bed, stretching her aching limbs as she stumbled to the bathroom. She caught sight of her reflection and gasped.  
  
There were dark rings of mascara under her eyes and black trails down her unusually pale face. Her hair was a mess, hanging in tangled bunches around her face, her ponytail must have fallen out at some point during the night. She grimaced as her eyes drifted over the rest of her body. The dress she had been wearing the day before was bunched awkwardly around her hips, leaving her bright purple bra exposed. She pushed it the rest of the way down, until it puddled around her feet. She stepped out of it and pulled her robe on.   
  
She turned on the tap and scrubbed at her face, trying to wash the remnants of her ruined make up off. She looked back up at her reflection. She really looked terrible, she thought, and Oliver had seen her like this.  
  
Oliver.  
  
Felicity froze. Oliver. She had called him last night. While having a panic attack, she had called him and he had come over to help her. Even though they were barely speaking, he had still raced to her side, in the middle of the night.  
  
And judging by the smell of coffee and breakfast that hung in the air, he was still there. She took a deep breath, bracing herself as she left the safety of her bathroom. She walked down the hallway, pausing at the top of the stairs. She could hear the sound of Oliver moving around her kitchen, the clattering of pots and pans, as he prepared something in the kitchen. She slowly walked down the stairs. She felt nervous, unsure of why he was still there. Part of her wondered, why he had even come at all.   
  
They had barely spoken since their disastrous first date and kiss in the hospital. _Don’t ask me to say that I don’t love you_ , those has been the words he had said to her as he had pulled away. She hadn’t had much time to consider what the words had meant. With Sara dying, murdered, she had pushed those words away. Kept them tucked away in the back of her mind so that she could focus on the task at hand. Focus on finding Sara’s killer.   
  
But now, as she neared the entrance to her kitchen, to face Oliver, she found those words jumping to the front of her mind.  
  
She stopped in the doorway of her kitchen and took in the sight that lay before her. Oliver’s back was to her, but she had no doubt that he knew she was there. He stood in front of the stove, flipping pancakes. There were two plates on the island in the middle of her kitchen. A steaming cup of coffee placed next to one.   
  
“Morning,” Oliver said as he turned around to face her.   
  
Felicity smiled slightly, her feet seemed to move of their own will and carry her to one of the stools. She took a seat as Oliver placed a stack of pancakes in front of her. Her stomach growled hungrily.   
  
As she began eating, she tried to remember the last time that she had eaten, it had been a while. She knew that she and Oliver needed to talk, but as she ate, she decided that it could wait. Food first, then talking.   
  
Felicity kept her eyes focused on her plate as she shoveled forkful, after forkful of pancakes into her mouth. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She only looked up after she swallowed the last bite. Oliver was watching her eat, having already finished his food. Felicity fiddled nervously with her coffee mug, as she waited to see who would break the silence.   
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Oliver was the first to speak.  
  
Felicity briefly considered saying no. Pretending it hadn’t happened and go back to the way things were before. But she knew that Oliver would not accept her saying that she was fine. And she owed him, after he had rushed over in the middle of the night to be by her side.   
  
“It was about Sara,” she confessed, staring down at her half full cup of coffee. She didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see Oliver’s reaction.   
  
“We were sitting in the foundry,” Felicity continued. “Just talking. And I turned my back on her, but I heard her gasp and when I turned back to face her. She… she has the arrows, sticking out of her chest.”  
  
Felicity stopped. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she felt Oliver grab her hand, holding it in his larger one.   
  
She swallowed thickly. “And she’s begging me to help her. Calling my name. Asking me why I let her die,” Felicity struggled to speak through her tears.   
  
“And I don’t understand it,” she sobbed. “It doesn’t make sense. Why Sara? Why would someone kill her?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Oliver responded softly, he brushed her tears away. “But I promise you, Felicity, I swear to you, we will find out who did this. And make them pay.”  
  
Felicity nodded. She closed her eyes, silently willing her tears to stop.   
  
“I’m glad you called me,” Oliver said, which caused Felicity to look up and meet his gaze. “I was surprised when I saw your name come up on the screen. I wasn’t sure… After everything…”  
  
“I didn’t even think about it,” Felicity rasped, her voice rough from her tears. “When I woke up, I was so scared. I couldn’t catch my breath. I dialled without thinking. I just…”  
  
“What?” Oliver pressed lightly, he squeezed her hand.   
  
“I needed you,” she whispered, staring down at her empty plate.   
  
“I’m glad you did,” Oliver replied. “Well, I’m not glad that you were scared. I never want you to be scared. I’m glad you trusted me. That you still trust me… That I could help.”  
  
Felicity chuckled softly, breaking off Oliver’s rambles. “Apparently,” she teased. “My gift for rambling is contagious.”  
  
Oliver turned slightly red in embarrassment, he looked down at his plate and let go of her hand, he nervously fiddled with his utensils.  
  
“I wasn’t sure that you would answer,” Felicity admitted.  
  
Oliver jerked his head up in alarm. A fierce look came over his face. “I will always answer,” he swore, his gaze serious and locked with Felicity’s. “Always.”  
  
Felicity nodded, unable to speak. She kept her eyes locked with Oliver’s. He reached towards her, taking one of her hands and held it between both of his.   
  
“I mean it, Felicity. You can always call me. I will always answer.”  
  
“Okay,” Felicity accepted.   
  
Oliver nodded and stood, he picked up their dishes. He carried them over to the sink and rinsed them off before placing them in the dishwasher.   
  
“I’ve got to go,” he informed Felicity, he turned back to face her. “But if you need anything, anything at all, call me.”  
  
Felicity nodded as she watched him leave.   
  


* * *

  
  
And a few nights later, when she jerked awake, struggling to breathe and heart racing wildly in her chest, she did just that. She reached for her phone, dialed Oliver’s number and waited for him to answer.   
  
And he did, just as he promised.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the third part :) I'm not 100% satisfied with the ending, but please let me know what you think. And I hope you like it.

Felicity’s body wrenched up from where she lay on her bed, a small scream escaped her lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her breathing was quick and uneven. The images of her nightmare continued to flash behind her eyes. She rubbed her eyes roughly, as if she were trying to scrub the images away. Her cheeks were wet with tears that continued to pour from her eyes.  
  
Blindly, she reached for her phone, she gripped it firmly in her hand. In the darkness of the room, she squinted at the bright screen. She scrolled through her contacts, before selecting the one she was looking for. The one that would be able to help. The one she needed.  
  
Oliver.  
  
She held the phone to her ear and listened to the ringing on the other end. Waiting for him to answer. Wanting and needing to hear his calm, reassuring voice, telling her that everything would be okay.  
  
As the phone continued to ring, with no answer, her breathing began to speed up, puffing out in too fast pants. She began to feel lightheaded as her stomach turned nervously.  
  
His voicemail picked up on the other end. Felicity immediately hung up, she looked at her phone in confusion and hit the redial button. Again, it rang through to voicemail.  
  
_“Hi.. this is Oliver Queen’s… Felicity, why are you laughing?”_  
  
_“You sound so… angry.”_  
  
_“Fe-lic-ity…”_  
  
_“What? You sound like our… Green friend.”_  
  
_“This is—“_  
  
The beep cut off his message. Felicity could feel her panic rising as she hit the redial button, listening to the ringing again.  
  
Why isn’t he answering? She thought to herself. He promised he would always answer. Something is wrong.  
  
Felicity’s mind raced as Oliver’s voicemail picked up again. She gripped her blanket tightly around her, then threw it off of her. Her body suddenly felt too warm. Too hot for a blanket. She swung her feet off the edge of the bed. Her feet hit the cold floor.  
  
The sudden cold startled her. Her bedroom had carpet. But the floor beneath her feet was concrete and freezing in the night air. She looked around frantically, trying to take her surroundings in. In her panicked state, it took a few minutes for her mind to catch up, to recognize where she was.  
  
The foundry.  
  
Her phone slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, a small crack formed across the screen. Her panic and terror only grew as the memories of the night before came rushing back. Along with the reason that Oliver wasn’t answering her calls.  
  
He couldn’t.  
  
Because he was dead.  
  
Oliver was dead.  
  
He had gone to challenge Ra’s al Ghul to a duel and he hadn’t come back. He wouldn’t come back. Ever.  
  
Malcolm Merlyn had showed up in the foundry, and presented the team with a sword. He claimed he had found it at the site of the duel. It was covered in blood, blood that he claimed belonged to Oliver. He told them that Oliver Queen was dead.  
  
Felicity had tested the blood that was on the sword at least ten times. She needed to be sure. Each time, getting the same results. The blood matched Oliver’s. It was Oliver’s.  
  
Oliver Queen was dead.  
  
Felicity jumped from the bed, she needed to leave. She needed air. She couldn’t be here anymore. Not with so many memories. Too many memories.  
  
This was the place she had joined the team. The place she had found a new family. The place she had made a home. The last place she had seen Oliver. Had talked to him. The place he had told her that he…  


_And the second thing_  
  
_I love you._  
  
  
The words echoed in her ears.  
  
Blindly, she stumbled through the foundry, trying to find her way to the stairs. She needed to get out. She needed to leave. In her panicked fog, she knocked into a table, sending something clattering to the floor.  
  
Felicity looked down to see what had fallen. When she saw it, a strangled sob escaped her throat.  
  
The sword.  
  
The sword that Ra’s had used to kill Oliver with, lay on the floor at her feet.  
  
She screamed as her knees gave out, her body collapsed onto the floor.  
  
“…icity…”  
  
She continued screaming, only pausing to gasp before continuing. She pulled at her clothes, which felt too hot, too tight, too heavy for her overheated body.  
  
“Felicity!” she heard her name being called. It sounded far away.  
  
“Felicity, I need you to calm down,” the voice called out to her again.  
  
She tried. Tried to focus on the voice, on its commands, but she couldn’t. Her panicked mind raced. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears, feel her heart racing in her chest. She tried to take a deep breath, but she couldn’t get enough air in. She clawed desperately at her throat.  
  
Was this was it feels like to die?  
  
A face blurred in front of Felicity’s eyes, unfocused as she tried to make out their features. She tried to recognize the face that swam before her eyes. It took a few seconds for her clouded mind to realize who stood before her.  
  
John Diggle.  
  
His eyes were wide with fear and concern was written all over his face. He raised his hands, gently trying to grasp her face.  
  
Something in her panicked mind rejected the idea. She fought against his outstretched hands, pushing them away.  
  
This was all wrong.  
  
These were the wrong hands trying to help and comfort her.  
  
The wrong voice trying to calm her fears.  
  
It wasn’t right.  
  
It wasn’t fair.  
  
_He_ should be here.  
  
It was supposed to be him.  
  
He had promised.  
  
He said he would always be here, to listen, to help.  
  
But he wasn’t.  
  
Because he was—  
  
“I.. need…” Felicity gasped out, she tried to speak. “I… Need.. Ol… Oli… Oliver. I need Oliver.”  
  
She watched as John’s face crumbled, a look of devastation marred his features.  
  
“I know, Felicity. I know,” John’s voice cracked with emotion. He reached his hands out towards her again. Once again, she jumped back, stumbling as she went.  
  
“Felicity,” John spoke softly, trying to get through to her. “Listen to my voice. You need to calm down. Come on, sweetie, take a deep breath.”  
  
Felicity tried to obey John’s commands, but her fear was too much. Her breathing seemed to speed up even more, as tears poured down her face. And her head swam as the lack of oxygen began to affect her.  
  
She felt strong arms wrap around her heaving body as she tried breathe.  
  
“I’m sorry, Felicity,” she heard John whisper, filled with regret.  
  
She felt a small pinch on the side of her neck. John’s familiar face flashed in front of her, his face filled with concern. She tried to form words. The words to ask why he was apologizing, but she couldn’t get the words out.  
  
And then darkness overtook her.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Felicity’s eye felt heavy as she tried to open them. Her head was pounding and her body ached. She groaned as she tried to push herself into a sitting position.  
  
“Woah,” she heard someone say. “Easy, Felicity.”  
  
She squinted her eyes in the bright light.  
  
“Digg?” she croaked, her voice was rough. She tried to clear her throat, but only coughed.  
  
“Here,” she heard John say. “Have some water. Small sips.”  
  
Felicity felt a water bottle be placed in her hands and hands gently help her sit up. She took a few small sips. She cleared her throat again, before she tried to speak.  
  
“What happened?” she whispered, her head still pounded.  
  
John didn’t respond. Felicity raised her eyes, looking at him. He seemed nervous, he shuffled on his feet and avoided her gaze.  
  
“John?” she asked again. The use of his first name, seemed to grab his attention, causing him to look up at her.  
  
“I gave you a mild sedative,” he confessed.  
  
Felicity blinked in confusion. She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind was fuzzy. She couldn’t recall what had happened.  
  
“Do you remember?” John asked cautiously. “Do you remember what happened yesterday?”  
  
Felicity closed her eyes and tried to focus. She could remember arriving at Verdant and working in the foundry with Roy and John, and then…  
  
Then Malcolm Merlyn had showed up. And she had been angry. Her stomach felt heavy as her mind tried to piece everything together. Malcolm had brought them something. Her eyes flew over to one of the tables, something lay on one, covered by a blanket. But she could make out the vague shape. And she remembered. She remembered everything.  
  
“A sword,” she whispered, her voice sounded foreign in her ears, as if she wasn’t the one speaking. “Merlyn gave us a sword. And he, he said that it had Oliver’s blood on it. That Ra’s had left it as a memorial because he…”  
  
She broke off, unable to say the words out loud. As if saying them out loud made it real. Saying it out loud, meant acknowledging that it was true, that it had really happened. But maybe, just maybe, if she kept it inside, if she didn’t admit what had happened, it wouldn’t be true.  
  
She looked up at John, the look on his face was a mixture of concern and pity.  
  
He nodded, confirming the events she had recalled. “Yeah,” he chocked out. “You didn’t believe him. None of us did. So you…”  
  
“I tested it,” Felicity filled in. “I tested the blood. Over and over again. Just to be sure. But I… I kept getting the same results.”  
  
John nodded.  
  
“So, how did I end up here?” Felicity questioned.  
  
“Right. You fell asleep,” John added, filling in the blanks in Felicity’s memory. “You must have tested Oli.. the blood ten times before you feel asleep at your desk. You were exhausted. And I didn’t want to wake you. So, Roy and I, we moved you to the bed. I didn’t want to leave you alone. So I stayed. Roy wanted to stay too, but I sent him home.”  
  
Felicity looked down, she fiddled with the edge of the blanket that was draped over her.  
  
The bed.  
  
Oliver’s bed.  
  
The bed she had bought him because he had been sleeping on the floor. Had it really only been a few months since then? It seemed like a lifetime ago.  
  
Things had been so different then. So much had changed. Their disaster of a first date, Sara’s death, Thea being trained by Merlyn, being drugged and killing Sara. And now Oliver…  
  
Oliver.  
  
“Do you think he’s really…” Felicity couldn’t finish her sentence.  
  
“I don’t know, Felicity,” John muttered, shaking his head. “The blood is his.”  
  
“But there was no…” Felicity stopped again. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Body.”  
  
“If what Merlyn said is true. A body wouldn’t have been easy to recover. I mean, if Oliver… if he fell into a ravine. There might not be a body to recover,” John explained.  
  
Felicity closed her eyes, her chest was tight with pain. She took a few deep breaths in, and slowly let them out. She tried to push away the panic that was building inside of her body.. The last thing she needed was to have a panic attack now.  
  
“So, then what happened?” she asked. “You said that you sedated me?”  
  
“Sorry about that,” John apologized, he scratched the back of his neck. “I woke up and you were screaming. And hyperventilating. You wouldn’t stop. I thought you were going to pass out.”  
  
Felicity nodded as she tried to remember.  
  
“I woke up,” she recalled. “I had had a nightmare. And I… I tried…”  
  
She broke off again. Her eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over, as she remembered what had triggered her panic attack.  
  
“I tried to called Oliver,” she admitted in a whisper, her voice cracking as the tears slipped down her cheeks. “I tried to call him and he didn’t answer. But he promised. He promised me that he would always answer. But he didn’t.. He couldn’t. Because he’s…”  
  
Felicity broke off, sobbing, she was unable to speak. John walked over to her side. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as she cried.  
  
After several minutes, she pulled back. She looked up at John, her sobs has subsided, but a few tears still dripped down her cheeks.  
  
“Why?” she gasped out. “Why did he leave me? Leave us? He promised me that I could always call him. He would always come. He would help.”  
  
“Felicity,” John muttered softly, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “He didn’t want to leave you.  But sometimes bad things happen. And we have no control over them. We just have to live with them.”  
  
“It’s not fair,” Felicity sobbed. “He’s given up so much for this city. He deserved more.”  
  
John pulled Felicity’s shaking body towards his again as her sobs started over.  
  
“I know,” John agreed. “I know, it’s not fair.”  
  
“He told me he loved me,” Felicity muttered into John’s chest, through her sobs. “He told me that he loved me and I didn’t say it back. And now… He’s… And I never said it back. He didn’t know. He doesn’t know that I love him too.”  
  
“I think he knew,” John tried to reassure her. “He knew. And maybe, just the thought was enough for him.”  
  
“What happens now?” Felicity questioned, her body sagged against John’s. She felt drained. Emotionally and physically drained.  
  
“I don’t know,” John admitted. “I guess, we keep going. We keep the city safe, for Oliver.”  
  
“For Oliver,” Felicity echoed.  
  


* * *

  
  
The next few weeks continued to be a struggle. Felicity’s nightmares and panic attacks continued. And without Oliver being there to help her, to comfort her, they seemed to have become worse. She was barely sleeping and when she did, her dreams were plagued with visions of Oliver dying. She would see him falling off a cliff, see him stabbed through the chest with a sword. She dreamed of the last time time she spoke to him, the words he had said. She could still hear them in her head: I love you. She could still feel his lips as he kissed her forehead.  
  
John had tried to help, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t Oliver. And after days of sleepless nights, Felicity agreed to see a doctor, under John and Roy’s urging. She was given sleeping pills, which seemed to help. She still had the occasional nightmare but, she could finally sleep.  
  
But Felicity didn’t know how to keep the team going without Oliver. She didn’t know how to continue Oliver’s mission, without Oliver. So, she left, she walked away, believing that there was no team without him.  
  
Until she realized, that over the past three years, Oliver’s mission, wasn’t only Oliver’s mission anymore. It had become more than that. It had become the team’s mission. And as a team, they found a way to move on. To continue to fight, to save the city, even without Oliver.  
  
And then, three weeks after Oliver’s death, he came back. He was alive.  
  
But the team, along with Oliver, quickly realized that things had changed. They way that they worked, the way that they functioned, had changed. And they couldn’t go back. And they had to find another way.  
  
Things between Oliver and Felicity had changed too. There was a distance between them that hadn’t existed before. She had dreamed about Oliver returning. Dreamed of him coming back alive, coming back to her, dreamed of him being with her. But, when Felicity found out that he had teamed up with Malcolm Merlyn. The man responsible for Sara’s death, for his own son’s death. She knew that the dream of her being with Oliver, would remain just that, a dream.  
  
A week after Oliver came back from the dead, Felicity woke in the middle of the night with a gasp. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing was rapid. Her mind was filled with flashes of her nightmare. Flashes of Oliver dying, falling from the cliff to the sharp rocks below. For a few minutes, she tried to calm herself down. She struggled to take a deep breath. She tried to count in her head. But nothing seemed to work.  
  
She reached over to the table that stood beside her bed, where her phone lay. She picked it up, fiddling with it between her hands. She wanted to call Oliver, knowing that he would be able to help. But part of her resisted and didn’t want to call him. Didn’t want to let him back in. Didn’t want to let him get that close to her again.  
  
But a small part of her knew that she needed him. Knew that he was the only one who would be able to help. Knew that he cold make the panic and fear go away.  
  
And a part of her, needed to see him, needed to hear his voice. She needed to know that he was really back, that he was really alive. That it had really happened and he was there.  
  
Making her decision, she called Oliver. Her hands were shaking as she held the phone to her ear, as she waited for him to answer on the other end.  
  
“Felicity?” he answered, his voice filled with worry. “Are you, is everything okay?”  
  
Just hearing his voice helped, she could feel her breathing slow and her heart rate return to normal.  
  
She took a deep breath in. “Not really,” she gasped. “I just…”  
  
“Do you… Do you want to me come over?” Oliver asked awkwardly. Clearly she wasn’t the only one to feel the distance between them.  
  
“No,” Felicity exclaimed, startling herself with the forcefulness of her voice.  
  
“Oh,” Oliver replied in a disappointed tone.  
  
“I mean, I just needed to,” Felicity babbled. “I just needed to hear your voice.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Felicity took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m still mad at you. I just.. I can’t believe you. But I woke up and I needed to know that it was real. That you were really here, really alive. That it wasn’t a dream.”  
  
“I’m here,” Oliver promised. “I will always be here.”  
  
“No,” Felicity all but screamed, her panic was suddenly replaced with anger. “Don’t say that. You can’t promise that. Because you did. Before. And then you were gone. You were dead. You left me. You told me you loved me and then you left. And you didn’t come back. And I…”  
  
Felicity stopped talking. She was unsure if she wanted to continue and open up to him.  
  
“I needed you,” Felicity admitted in a quiet voice. She felt a small weight be lifted from her shoulders. It felt good to say the words to Oliver. To open up and let him know what she had been feeling when she thought he was dead.    
  
Oliver was silent for a minute. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I never wanted to… I never meant… I didn’t want to leave you.”  
  
“But you did,” Felicity accused, tears slipped from her eyes. She wiped at them furiously, angry at herself for crying. “You promised me that you’d always be here. That you’d always answer. And you didn’t. I needed you and you weren’t here.”  
  
Felicity heard Oliver sigh deeply on the other end of the phone.  
  
“I thought you were dead.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his tone filled with pain. “You’re right. I can’t promise you that nothing will happen to me. Because I don’t know what will happen, and we live dangerous lives. But I do know one thing.”  
  
“What?” Felicity asked, anxious to hear what he was going to say, thinking of the last time he had used similar words.  
  
“I will always do everything in my power to come back to you,” Oliver stated seriously.  
  
Felicity didn’t respond. she wanted to believe him, desperately. She wanted to forgive him. But a small voice, in the back of her mind, told her not to.  
  
The small voice that reminded her that her father, had once promised something similar, and he had left. And Cooper, who had once said he would keep her safe, and he left. And Oliver, who had promised he’d always be there, had left her too.  
  
But he came back, she told the voice. He came back to me.  
  
Oliver seemed to hear her hesitation. “Felicity?” he prompted, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Do you trust me?”  
  
Felicity opened and closed her mouth a few times as she struggled to answer. “I… I want to,” Felicity choked on her words. “I’m trying.”  
  
Oliver was silent for several beats.  
  
“Okay,” he finally replied. Felicity could hear the hurt in his voice, though he tried to mask it.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Felicity blurted. “I want to. I do. But…”  
  
“Felicity,” Oliver interrupted. “It’s okay, you never have to apologize to me.”  
  
“It’s just hard,” Felicity admitted in a whisper. “But this helped.”  
  
“I’m glad,” Oliver said. “That I could help, I mean.”  
  
“Goodnight, Oliver,” Felicity said. “And thank you.”  
  
“You don’t ever have to thank me,” Oliver assured her.  
  
Felicity ended the call, she hugged her knees to her chest. She was happy that she had called Oliver. Talking to him, clearing some of the air between them, had helped. She felt lighter, lighter than she had felt in a long time. She knew that they still had a long way to go. A long way to fix things, to get back to the place they had been at.  
  
But this felt like the first step. And with time, Felicity hoped, they would find their way back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the fourth and final part. I'm so sorry for the wait, I got really stuck on this one.
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think :)

_Oliver was standing in front of Felicity, a hopeful smile on his face. His eyes were filled with love and hope as he gazed into hers. The look on his face was a complete contradiction to his severe haircut and League robes._  
  
 _“If you come with me?” he asked nervously._  
  
 _Felicity felt herself nodding, unable to speak. Her stomach fluttered, she couldn’t believe this was happening. Oliver wanted to be with her, really be with her. She closed her eyes, it all felt like a dream._  
  
 _When she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by darkness. She looked around in confusion, fear began to creep its way up her spine. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark, she recognized where she was. Her breath caught in her throat and her body froze in terror._  
  
 _The cell._  
  
 _She was in the cell in Nanda Parbat._  
  
 _She looked around frantically, trying to find an escape. She spotted Oliver, standing at the door. He was wearing his League robes but there was no expression on his face. A drastic change from what she had seen only moments before. There was no sign of the love for her that had been there._  
  
 _She dove towards the door, desperate to leave the cage._  
  
 _“Oliver,” she screamed as he swung the door shut. The slam echoed against the stone walls._  
  
 _He gave no indication of hearing her, he only stared coldly at her. His eyes and face were completely devoid of emotion._  
  
 _“Oliver, what are you doing?” she begged desperately. She clung to the bars in the blocked the small window on the door._  
  
 _He still gave no response. He raised his arm and threw something into the cell. Felicity looked behind her, she watched as two small capsules split open when they hit the floor. They emitted a hissing sound as the cloudy gas began filling the room._  
  
 _Felicity began coughing as the gas filled her lungs. She banged her fists against the door, trying to break it down. She looked up, Oliver still stood at the door, watching her. He made no move to help her, to save her._  
  
 _“Oliver,” she gasped, choking on the gas. “Help me! You promised you’d always help me! I trusted you!”_  
  
 _Oliver turned away, he walked down the hall, away from her, ignoring her desperate pleas._  
  
 _Nyssa stood at the end of the hall, waiting for him. She was wearing formal robes, dressed for a wedding. Oliver took her hands in his. Felicity could hear them speaking, repeating vows, promising themselves to each other._  
  
 _“Oliver,” she croaked. “Please. Come back. Help me. Don’t leave me.”_  
  
 _Her knees gave out beneath her and her body slid down the door. Tears poured from her eyes as she continued to call out for Oliver, begging him to come back. Her eyelids grew heavy as the gas clouded her mind, her movements were slow and her body felt heavy. She could feel her mind slowly drifting off as the room around her began to fade away…_  
  
  
  
“Felicity!”  
  
Felicity jerked up in bed. Her heart was racing in her chest and she found herself unable to catch her breath. Her whole body was shaking as her gaze flew around the room, trying to recognize her surroundings.   
  
“Felicity.” A familiar voice broke through her panic. She felt familiar hands grasping her face, holding her tear stained cheeks. “Hey, I’m here. You’re safe.”  
  
It took a moment for Felicity’s panicked mind to catch up, to recognize the voice that called to her and the hands that held her.   
  
Oliver.  
  
She could feel her body begin to relax slightly under his touch. She curled into him as he rubbed small circles on her back. After a few minutes, she felt her breathing and pulse lower to their normal rate.   
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Oliver asked softly, he pulled back from her slightly. He carefully brushed her messy curls behind her ears so he could see her face.   
  
Felicity sighed tiredly, she pulled her knees to her chest and tried to recall her dream. This was the first panic attack she had had since leaving Starling City with Oliver two weeks earlier.   
  
But as the images of her nightmare flashed behind her eyes, she felt the panic return. Her heart began to race in her chest, echoing in her ears. Her entire body began to shake and it suddenly felt overheated. Her breath came out in jagged gasps.   
  
Because it hadn’t been just a nightmare, she reminded herself. It had been memories. Oliver had locked her and the team in a cell and poisoned them, he had tried to kill them. With that terrifying thought, all the feelings of fear and panic came rushing back, completely overcoming her. She shoved herself away from Oliver and jumped off the bed. She raced to the other side of the room and pressed herself against the wall. Trying to put as much distance between them as possible.   
  
“Felicity?” Oliver asked in alarm. She could hear the concern in his voice but she couldn’t stop thinking about her dream. In her panicked state, she found it difficult to separate what had really happened that night, from what her mind had created in her nightmare.   
  
He took a few hesitant steps towards her, his hands raised in surrender. His movements were slow and careful, as if he were approaching a caged animal. Felicity watched him, her eyes wide with fear. Once he was within a few feet of her, he reached his arm out to touch her. She flinched and a small whimper escaped her lips, her heart was still pounding in her chest as she struggled to catch her breath.   
  
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she sobbed between gasped breaths.   
  
Her words caused Oliver to stagger in his steps, falling back and a look of hurt crossed his face.   
  
“Felicity?” he questioned, his tone filled with confusion. “What.. Are you…”  
  
Felicity slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, she tried to make herself as small as possible. She gasped for breath as sobs racked her body. Her mind was filled with images from her dream. She brought her hands up and covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.   
  
Oliver watched Felicity as she began to mutter to herself. He felt a desperate need to help her, to comfort her. But he knew that wouldn’t help right now. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, sitting a few feet away from her. He nervously rubbed his fingers together as he fought the urge to reach out to her.   
  
“It’s not real,” she whispered to herself, trying to reassure herself. “It was just a dream. But it was real. He locked us in a cell. But it was to save us. It’s over. It happened, but it’s over. It’s over.”  
  
Felicity’s panicked whispers hit Oliver like a train, knocking the air out of him. From what she was repeating, it didn’t take much for him to figure out what she had seen in her nightmare.   
  
Nanda Parbat.  
  
But more specifically, the night that she and the team had returned to Nanda Parbat, and tried to stop Ra’s from poisoning the city. But they had been captured and in order to prove his loyalty to Ra’s, he had locked them in a cell and poisoned them. He had had to ignore their desperate pleas, begging him to help them, to save them. The pleas still echoed in his ears, haunting his own dreams.   
  
The team had been safe, unbeknownst to them, Merlyn had given them the cure to the virus, keeping them safe. Oliver never would have done it otherwise. He never would have risked them. He never wanted to hurt them, but it had been necessary. In order to take down Ra’s, both sides had to believe that he was under Ra’s’ influence.   
  
And he hated himself for it. He hated that he had done it, that the had betrayed their trust the way he did. He had seen his choices as the only option. He had thought that he would die taking down Ra’s and he had accepted that. He would rather have died, saving the city, saving his friends, than allow Ra’s al Ghul to destroy everything. But then he hadn’t died, he had survived, he had found another way.   
  
_Don’t fight to die, fight to live._  
  
Felicity, once again, had helped him find another way. She had believed in him, helped him believe  in himself. And he had won, he had defeated Ra’s. And now, he had to live with his actions, and the consequences of those actions.   
  
John still hadn’t forgiven him, maybe never would. And Oliver understood why; what he had done was unforgivable.   
  
But Felicity, he thought that when she agreed to leave with him, that meant she had forgiven him. That she had been able to move on, look over his actions. They hadn’t spent much time talking about it. But as Felicity’s nightmare and current state showed, she was still being affected by his decisions. Maybe she hadn’t forgiven him. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe, she would change her mind, regret her decisions to be with him. Maybe, he feared, she would leave him.   
  
Oliver pushed those thoughts away. That wasn’t important right now. Felicity, and making sure that she was okay, that was what was important. He shook himself out of his thoughts and focused his attention back on Felicity.  
  
She was still curled in a ball, pressed against the wall. She had stopped muttering but was still struggling to catch her breath, tears spilled down her cheeks, from her eyes that were still tightly closed.   
  
“Felicity,” Oliver called her name softly.   
  
She didn’t respond.   
  
“Felicity,” he repeated, his voice a little louder. “I know you’re scared, but you’re safe. And you need to breathe. Can you do that for me? Deep breath in, slowly let it out.”  
  
A whimper escaped Felicity’s lips as she pried her eyes open. Her blue eyes, that Oliver had grown used to seeing filled with love and happiness, were wide and filled with fear and terror.   
  
“Come on, hon. Take a deep breath in,” he coached her in a gentle tone. “Hold it and slowly let it out.”  
  
Felicity tried to focus on Oliver’s voice and his instructions as he repeated the words again. She struggled to take a deep breath in.

  
 “You’re safe, Felicity. No one is going to hurt you,” Oliver promised. “I am not going to hurt you. You are safe.”  
  
After a few minutes, Felicity could feel her body start to relax, she gained control over her breather and her pulse returned to its normal rate. She closed her eyes and took one more deep breath in through her nose, she held it for several seconds before slowly releasing it. She opened her eyes, and looked around. Her gaze found Oliver’s, his eyes were full of concern, his posture was tense, as if he was holding himself back, he was rubbing his fingers together at his side.  
  
“I’m okay,” Felicity whispered, her voice was hoarse. She tried to smile at Oliver to reassure him, but it felt more like a grimace.   
  
“No, you’re not,” Oliver countered softly. He moved closer to Felicity, he carefully took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, he could still feel a slight tremor in her hands. “I’ve never seen you have a panic attack that bad and you’ve never reacted like that towards me. We should, we need to talk about it.”  
  
Felicity looked down at their hands and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing it nervously. She looked up, a fake smile plastered across her face.   
  
“Oliver Queen,” she teased. “Willingly wanting to talk? Should I be recording this?”  
  
“You don’t have to be funny for me,” he assured her. “We need to talk about what happened. What I did.”  
  
At Oliver’s words, Felicity pushed herself closer to Oliver. She buried her head into his chest, her body tensed as she nodded. She took a few more moments, cuddled against Oliver before she pulled away. She kept their hands clasped together, gently rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.   
  
“I don’t know where to start,” Felicity muttered. Oliver waited, never taking his eyes off of her face. “But I need to ask you not to interrupt me. I need to get all of this out, without stopping, or I might not be able to.”  
  
Oliver nodded his consent.   
  
“From the beginning, I never wanted to believe that you were working with Ra’s. That you had forgotten us, or were brainwashed or whatever. Nyssa came to us, she explained that you were under her father’s influence. But I didn’t want, couldn’t believe that I had lost you. I needed to believe that there was a part of _you_ , a part of the Oliver that I fell in love with, that was still in there somewhere.   
  
“But then, you kidnapped Lyla, your best friend’s, your partner’s wife. And you left Sara there, unprotected, not that I’m saying you should have taken Sara too. But you left her there, alone.   
  
“And I tried, I tried to get through to you. I needed some sign, that you were still in there somewhere. But you were cold. It was like you didn’t even recognize me. You were standing in front of me, and I barely recognized you. It was like someone had taken over your body. Your soul was gone. And that terrified me.   
  
“When we went to Nanda Parbat to stop Ra’s from releasing the virus, I think there was still a part of me that held onto to a small piece of hope that we’d save you too. And you told us to trust you. But then, we found out that you were marrying Nyssa and you threw us in that prison, that cage. And you killed us, or we thought you did.   
  
“You have no idea. _No idea_ ,” Felicity emphasized. “How that felt. How terrifying that was. Over the last three years, I have seen things that I never even dreamed about, not in my worst nightmares. I have seen half a city be brought down around me; I have been shot; I have faced Slade Wilson; I watched my ex boyfriend, come back from the dead. But none of scared me as much as this.   
  
“I thought I was dying. And it wasn’t fast, Oliver, it was slow and painful. And I had to watch as Laurel and Ray lost consciousness first as we all choked on our own breath.  
  
“And even then, as we thought we were dying, because of you. All I could think of was you. How we had wasted so much time, time that we could have been together and happy. And how I could have done so much more. There was so much I would miss. I’d never get married or have kids. I wouldn’t get to watch those kids grow up and have families of their own. And I wanted all of that, with you.  
  
“And then I thought, if we died, who would save the city. If we were all gone, who would protect the city. And then it all went black.   
  
“But somehow, we woke up, we were okay. Merlyn explained what you had done, how you had kept us safe and how he had helped. But before I could even process that, we had to leave because we weren’t done yet. We still had a city to save. And we did. Once again, we saved the city.   
  
“But, honestly Oliver, finding out that you had planned to die, that hurt almost as much as thinking that I was dying. You were willing to die to save the city because that it was you do. You sacrifice everything to keep the city safe. But this time, no one would have known. You would have died, but died a villain. And you don’t deserve that. You deserve more. After everything you’ve done for the city, what you’ve sacrificed, what you’ve lost, you deserve more than dying with the world believing that you’re a villain. You may not believe that, but I do.”  
  
Oliver looked at Felicity in surprise. He was always surprised by the faith she had in him. The way that she always saw something in him, something good. He hoped that, with Felicity’s help, he’d eventually see it too.  
  
“And the worst part is, I understand it,” Felicity groaned. “I understand why you pretended to be working for Ra’s. You needed to take him down. And the only way to do that was to make him believe that you were loyal to him and only him. Which means, you needed us to believe it too, you needed our reactions to be genuine. I understand that.   
  
“So, I can understand why you didn’t tell me, why you didn’t tell John. You didn’t tell us because you wanted to keep us safe. And I know you, probably better than you know yourself. So, I know that if you could go back, you’d do it all over the same.  
  
“But what I don’t understand,” Felicity looked up at Oliver, her eyes filled with tears threatening to spill over. “What I don’t get Oliver, is why you trusted Malcolm Merlyn. _Malcolm Merlyn_. He is responsible for hundreds of deaths in the city. Your best friend, his own son, included. He drugged Thea and forced her to kill Sara.”  
  
Oliver looked down, a guilty look on his face. He opened his mouth to interrupt.  
  
“And you trusted him, Oliver,” Felicity continued not allowing him to speak. “You trusted him, over us, over the team, over me. And while you can try to convince yourself that you were just using him, using his knowledge, the reality is, you trusted him with your plan.  
  
“And that hurts too,” Felicity’s voice cracked as she spoke. “After everything we’ve been through in the last three years, you trusted your enemy over your friends, over your teammates. I may understand your reasoning, but it still hurts.”  
  
Felicity stopped speaking, a few tears had slipped from her eyes and she wiped them away. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.   
  
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Oliver said. “I know that doesn’t make much sense, considering everything I did. But I swear to you, Felicity, I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t see any other options, at the time.  
  
“I never told you this, but when I went to fight Ra’s on the mountain and he stabbed me. There was this moment, where I had these flashes, and I saw these moments of my life and the people in my life. I saw my father and my mother and Thea. But the last one, the very last thing that I saw before I fell, was you. I thought of you. And I wished that I could have had more time with you. I would have done everything differently.  
  
“But then, I didn’t die and Ra’s was still alive. I still had to beat him, kill him. And I didn’t even know where to start. But Merlyn did. He knew what to do and I was so desperate. And you’re right, I thought that teaming up with him was the only way to do it, the only way to keep you safe.  
  
“But you’re wrong, too. If I could go back, I would do a few things differently. The first is, I would include you and John on the plan. I should have trusted you. I thought I was keeping you safer by not telling you. But what I did, what I put you through, a good teammate, a partner, should never do that. And I don’t blame John for not forgiving me. I’d be surprised if you forgave me.  
  
“I wish I could go back and change it all,” Oliver confessed. “But I can’t. The best I can do is spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. And maybe by some miracle, if the world or whatever gods are out there decide I deserve it, I’ll gain your trust again. You’ll forgive me.”  
  
“I want to forgive you,” Felicity whispered. “I don’t regret this. Us. These past few weeks have been amazing, I’ve never felt this happy. I just need time, time to understand and process everything.”  
  
“Do… Do you need to be alone?” Oliver asked, his tone filled with apprehension. “For the time, I mean. Do you need that time to be alone, time apart, away from me?”  
  
Felicity looked away from Oliver, her face was blank, not giving anything away, as she considered his question. He watched her nervously, as he waited for her response.  
  
“I think,” Felicity started, she looked up, a small smile on her face. “I think we’ve spent enough time apart. I think, what we need, is to spend some time together. We need to figure out how we move past this, together.”  
  
A small laugh escaped Oliver’s lips, unable to contain his excitement. He brought Felicity’s hand up to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.   
  
“Okay,” he agreed, nodding his head. “Yes. I couldn’t agree more. Together.”  
  
“Together,” Felicity promised. 


End file.
